“People sound like they’re voting for you, you know? I know the poll numbers haven’t been great, but wordof mouth says otherwise.” Gerald claps me on the back, pulling me out of my thoughts.
We get back to work, handing out informational pamphlets; talking to friends, strangers, and people visiting for the festival; and giving cotton candy and stickers to kids who come up to my booth. When Emma Jane returns with the waters, the men set off, and she decides to tag along with them to, quote, “try to reach younger voters for me.”
As the festival comes to an end, Emma Jane sticks around to help me pack up. Mallory was supposed to be here by now, but she hasn’t shown up. We have a reservation for dinner at The Flats tonight, and we were supposed to leave from here together.
“Looking for your girlfriend?” Emma Jane questions, following my gaze to the parking lot. Her tone is more gentle than in the past, and it eats me alive. I want to tell her it’s all a farce. I’m not in love with Mallory, and she’s not in love with me. I don’t know why I even went along with this, and now I feel stuck.
It’s not like I have anyone else available to me, though.
The election is a little under three weeks away, and then we can naturally come to an end. No one needs to know this arrangement was for anything short of us liking each other.
“We have a date tonight,” I say. Emma Jane nods her head, but I don’t miss the frown on her face. In an instant, she shifts it to a smile, however, and begins to collect pamphlets that had fallen onto the ground. I set down theKnightley for Mayorstickers I’m holding and grab her shoulders, spinning her around to face me. “Emma Jane, what are you hiding from me? Ever since Momhosted the dinner party for me and Mallory last month, you’ve been off.”
She averts her gray eyes, her fingers tugging at the hem of her sparkly black shirt. A sure sign of nervousness for her.Why is she nervous?
“I’m fine.”
“That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told,” I scoff but grow serious. “Tell me. What’s bothering you? Why have you been so down this past month?”
“You’re not mine to confide in anymore,” she says, and when she meets my gaze, I swear water pools in her eyes before she turns her back to me. The words pierce my heart like they did when she told me something similiar a month ago. How do I make her see that it’s not true? I am hers. I—
The thought captures my attention, but Emma Jane continues talking in a rushed yet unsure tone. “I’m fine, really. I’ve just been doing a lot of self-reflection. You know, about perfectionism and telling myself that I’m not the reason my mom died and stuff. Just reflecting on my life.”
I maneuver around to stand in front of her again, placing my hand on her forearm for comfort. Her head is cast down, but I stare intently at her anyway, ducking down to try and get her attention. “Janie, I am always here for you, okay? Don’t you know that by now?”I am yours. I don’t know what to do about it, but I am yours.
After a beat of silence, she looks up at me through long eyelashes, a single tear running down her cheek. My heart breaks, and I reach to catch the liquid drop before it can fall. My finger trails up her cheek, and flames ignite in mystomach.
Seeing her cry is equivalent to getting punched in the gut.
This woman. I—
It hits me like a tidal wave, crashing over my being and giving my life new meaning.
I—I love her.
I love Emma Jane with every fiber of my being.
Stepping back, I drop my hand into a fist at my side. How did I not realize this sooner? All those feelings I’ve battled for her on and off over the past couple of years, the ones I’ve fought daily as of late… It is so much more than attraction. I know her. She is a smart and calculated perfectionist who has an ego the size of Texas, but… no. That’s not entirely accurate.
Just like Cami, Emma Jane has been wearing a mask. One that I should have seen through. She has so much love for the people of this town in her heart that she doesn’t want to ever disappoint them. So instead of allowing herself to mess up and show negative emotion, she tucks it all down. Deep down. So that no one has to worry about her. And it makes her come off as a little manipulative.
And maybe she is, but I know her heart. Her actions are never out of malice.
Something is clawing its way up, and it’s tearing her apart. Is it those realizations? Is that what she’s reflecting on?
Why didn't I see her sooner?
I have to tell her I’m not taken. I need to free myself to be there for her.
“Emma Jane. Mallory and I, it’s—”
“I’ve got to go, Knightley.” She walks backward, her eyes boring into my soul as she leaves. Everything within me wants to stop her.Hug her. Kiss her. Tell her it’s going to be okay and that I’m not going anywhere.
“Emma!”
She turns her back to me, grabbing her long, flowy white skirt at the sides with both hands. My heart shudders to a stop. She picks up her pace. I kick the edge of the tent before running a hand through my hair, releasing a frustrated breath. People have started looking, so I school my expression as best as I can, which means I probably look like I’ve been sucking on a lemon.
“It’s fake,” I whisper, wishing she would have stuck around to hear it.
